Year The Second: Furry Little Problem
by Naissus
Summary: "Remus" he says suddenly. "How did you get that scar?" It's only very fine, across his nose and cheek, like a little white thread nestling in his wet skin. In which Remus keeps secrets, Sirius restlessly pines, the Marauders find out, intended pre-SBRL.
1. One: Just Sirius

_"Every man is in his own hell."_

- Shakespeare

**1.**

**See, Sirius is one of those inhuman specimens who never falls ill,** but James has had two bad bouts of 'flu in their one-and-a-half years of Hogwarts, and Peter once stayed out all night in the snow because the fourth years gave him Firewhiskey and caught a fever that had him hallucinating for three days. And Remus, despite his jumper abuse and obscene rationality about his own wellbeing, is quite often skinny and pale and tired-looking, sometimes getting night-long high temperatures that enable Sirius to sit and chat to him and give him cold flannels until he can sleep, the sickliness is all just the way he is.

And all the others get ill sometimes too: Millie Luckworth, a pretty girl Sirius vaguely knows, managed to develop and then recover from meningitis last autumn for example. All this, Sirius knows. Everyone gets ill, and will keep getting ill, in the draughty castle. So it seems entirely suspicious that now Remus is hot and white and sweaty and shivering and throwing up into the basin beside his bed, there is such a commotion.

Dumbledore has looked out of character and worried, and has been to visit Remus four times in the past two days. Remus has looked utterly miserable, and they have had hushed conversations that Remus just lies to Sirius about the nature of when he asks later. Sirius would like to have been angry that Remus doesn't trust him with whatever is going on, but he can't feel annoyance when he sees him, delicate, fragile Remus, nestled in blankets, pale as a ghost, shivering violently, hair sticking to his face with sweat, only scratchy, uncomfortable helplessness, and sympathetic misery so intense sometimes he thinks he feels physical pain.

Not that he hardly has a chance to see Remus now he is ill with this mystery fever that looks a hell of a lot like a usual fever and there's a group of professors who flock to their dorm to continually take his temperature and prescribe things and feel his forehead and read him things he clearly isn't listening to and try and force gallons of water down his throat. Sirius doesn't understand the desperation of trying to get him better so quickly, and thinks privately he alone could do a much better job of looking after Remus, keeping him somewhere dark and cool with blankets and supplying him with food and calm companionship (even _that_ sounds good; maybe he's the one with the fever after all).

He thinks Remus would probably smile if he kissed him on the forehead and closed the door, leaving him to get better at his own pace. Not all this- pressure. Anyway, Dumbledore leaves Remus after another of their private conversations and Remus beckons Sirius over, weakly. He hasn't left the bed in three days, except to go to the toilet, and has slept an obscene amount.

He looks terrible, his face dusty, eyes dull and nestled on purple bags, lips thin and white. It makes Sirius itch restlessly and his mind race, because he isn't being allowed to do a thing to help.

Usually Remus is the one he goes to when the top of his head feels like it'll blow off soon with his mind screaming and he doesn't even know what about. He just always feels this _rage_.

"How are you feeling?" asks Sirius kindly, sitting gently on the edge of the bed, trying to stay very calm when he just wants to leap on and hug Remus and make him feel better.

"Bad" croaks Remus, stating the obvious. "Thanks, though. Sirius, I've got to go away for a couple days- it's all complicated, 'cos I'm ill, and I've not really been listening to them talk, but it's just for- treatment."

"But you only have the 'flu," says Sirius suspiciously, feeling anger well up in his chest. "We've all had it. You can't _treat_ that – you just have to let it get better. Not _travel_." Remus looks lost for words.

"I- you can."

"How?" demands Sirius immediately.

"I don't know- well- no I mean- I did say I've not been paying attention, it's- I don't know. I'll be back soon. What's the problem?"

"So, how come they didn't take James away for this, then, when it was him?" he reasons angrily, frustration boiling up inside him because Remus is being so _vague_. He's deliberately avoiding the fucking conversation and Sirius _cannot deal with this_.

"I'm not a fucking doctor!" snaps Remus tiredly. He looks so exhausted, so defeated. Sirius's insides tremble and itch to know what's going on. Poor Remus. Bony, pale, tragic, fragile Remus. And he is tragic, this boy he knows so well and loves so much, it's like he's labouring under this huge weight, now he thinks it, that's almost exactly what it is. It's like he knows him so very well, yet not at all.

"Sorry" Sirius says quietly, such an un-Sirius thing to say that Remus lifts his head with his stiff neck and looks at him. "Look, it's going to be alright, mate, you know," says Sirius gruffly. And Remus's bloodshot eyes suddenly fill with tears. "I don't mean- like, in a really soppy way" says Sirius hurriedly, wondering what's happening to his sensible, mild-mannered, composed friend – and what's wrong with his stupid eyes. Sirius _is_ normally the emotional one, and he actually does cry more than all the other Marauders put together, he rants and raves and screams daily and hugs and sometimes kisses his friends and even people he doesn't know well, but Remus is very closed off.

But now he's ill, he's aching and nauseous, he's despairing, somehow he's greatly weakened, and his eyes and mouth are red and wet. He jerks his arm free of the duvets to grab Sirius's hand, and shuts his eyes, and Sirius looks miserably at the tears dribbling silver lines down his beautiful face.

"Remus" he says suddenly. "How did you get that scar?" The tears are dripping over it, and it's only very fine, across his nose and cheek, like a little white thread nestling in his wet skin. And Remus opens his eyes, and, in a voice like his heart is breaking, looks at Sirius and whispers, "You're often right about a lot of stuff, and I'll deny that if you tell anyone, but you are, but- somehow, I don't think it's all going to all be alright, Sirius, you know." And he shuts his eyes again, chest shaking, long eyelashes spiky.

"Why?" asks Sirius very quietly, as if the answer's a clandestine secret, and only as he says it he realises his voice is wet and choked too, because his throat feels like it will close, and he doesn't know why.

"Go away, Sirius" mumbles Remus, his hand crawling away from Sirius's, his head tilting back, his eyes closing.

"What? I'll stay here. I'll look after you." Sirius wipes his eyes hurriedly with his cuff, being strong for Remus.

"_LEAVE ME ALONE_" Remus rasps harshly, eyes still clamped shut, and his chest jerks with stifled tears. He needs to cry, and he isn't going to until Sirius leaves, so rather than let Remus feel he's an intruder, Sirius does, wandering back to the common room, and sitting alone feeling very shaken. Beautiful, soft, sweet Remus, upstairs dying all alone, and still lying to him.

He's lying with his fake smile, lying with his silence, lying with his excuses about everything. Sirius has been sleepless, so he drops off in the common room and when he wakes, an hour or so later, he knows exactly what to do. He races back up the spiral steps.

James and Peter are sitting on Peter's bed playing Wizard's Chess. Remus's bed is made.

"Where is he?" Sirius practically screeches.

James moves a piece and says: "They already took him away. Hey Pete- Checkmate."

* * *

**Update to come soon, if people like. Reviews are prized, so much appreciated, and stuck on my little metaphorical wall of love. :)**


	2. Two: Sirius and Remus

_"He ate and drank the precious words;_

_His spirit grew robust._

_He knew no more,_

_That he was poor,_

_Nor that his frame was dust."_

- Emily Dickinson

**2.**

**Remus smiles.** He often doesn't know what to say if he's complimented, but it's Sirius, so it can't be awkward and he has the freedom to say nothing specific.

"So what did you do to combat said boredom?" asks Remus. Sirius just _wonders _at looking at him. He looks a hundred times better for his mystery visit, thin though he is, he has energy again, and you'd be hard pushed to find someone who could be convinced just two days ago he was falling apart at death's door.

"I lay out and watched the stars. Used to do that with the Old Slag, when I was really little. Could still remember where all my family are, though." Sirius tells him. He tries not to feel bitter that Remus lies to him, and just be happy with their friendship the way it is.

"Show me, tonight" Remus smiles, somehow very much at peace again, his secretive unsolved ramblings forgotten as if he never said them. As if he didn't break down in tears, grip Sirius's hand and inform him, deathly white and terrified, that Things, whatever his Things were, weren't going to be okay.

"Okay, but it won't be as good _now_" says Sirius, still feeling a little sore. "It was the full moon, so the sky was really bright. I can still find them, though."

Remus doesn't say anything for a second longer than is comfortable, and Sirius could swear his body is stiffening beside him. When he does, it's just "Oh." And it's too high pitched. Maybe Sirius was too harsh. Maybe there's a really good reason Remus can't tell. So Sirius elbows him very gently in the side, and changes the subject.

"Still want to come see the stars?" asks Sirius.

Remus looks over at him. It's much later, and Sirius is wearing the soft black trackies and tee-shirt he's taken to sleeping in.

"I'd forgotten that. I'm in my pajamas, Sirius."

"So am I." And then he regrets it, worried again that he's annoying Remus. First time in his life he's ever second-guessed himself, especially as it's on account of him worrying about being unwanted. Sirius Black? He's learnt to have a skin thick as armour and charge boisterously through life. He doesn't stay in one place long enough to be hurt. But suddenly- here he is.

The other boy just smiles, abandoning his book, and trails out of the door, after Sirius.

The night is relatively warm but staring out at the great sinister expanse above them feels cold. Sirius is absorbed in his task, finding all the main constellations and naming them. Remus is lying quietly next to him, listening.

"There I am" he says, pointing to the bright, bulging star. "And there's _Canis Major_ around me. I'm the Dog Star. For the Chinese, the Wolf Star," And Remus stays silent. "But look see, there's the dog shape. Can't you see it?"

"On summer nights" murmurs Remus. "Star of stars. Orion's dog they call it, brightest of them all, but an evil portent, bringing heat and fever to- to suffering humanity. Sirius rises late in the dark liquid sky."

"What?" asks Sirius, sitting up. Remus stays lying down, and smiles faintly.

"Homer. In the Illiad." Sirius just stares at him, baffled and slightly alarmed. "He was a Greek tragic poet. That passage is about Achilles approaching Troy."

"Who? Where?"

"Dad likes the classical authors. I like books. My summer was boring. So I was reading the Illiad, and I coincidently have this friend named Sirius." _I'm not just a psycho, stalking your star._

"What's it about?" asks Sirius, lying back down and looking at the sky.

"The Illiad?"

"That passage. And The Pilliad. Yeah."

"Ill-iad. The passage is about the star Sirius, you nutter" giggles Remus. "When Achilles is on the boat, he's going to war. Looking up at the stars I guess. Superstition."

"Why was he going to war?" asks Sirius comfortably shuffling, hoping that's not a stupid question and that it has a long answer. He turns on his side and watches Remus, imagining the two of them on an old wooden boat, drifting towards the great war beneath the vast sky, and Remus stares up at star Sirius and recounts the tale.

"Ah, the Trojan War. I can't believe you've never looked at the classics, with your heritage, Sirius." And he shuffles his head a little closer to Sirius's. "So the ancient Greeks were sailing to Troy to lay siege to the city, led by Agamemnon, and Achilles was their great warrior. Due to having a Goddess mother and so on, he was invulnerable except on his ankle, because that's what he'd been held by as a baby to be dipped into the Styx to create aforementioned immortality. Evidently the Styx is the river to the underworld, Sirius, stop asking obvious questions," but he grins, and tweaks Sirius's nose.

"So he's off to war, and y'see the Greeks liked to kind of _take_ girls, but then Agamemnon to give his bit on the side back. And he had to because Apollo is a God and he made him. Are you following? So Agamemnon's without his girl, gets lonely, and takes Achilles' girl, instead. Anguished, Achilles withdraws his service and without him, the Greeks start to lose. But he changed his mind when his best friend, Patroclus, gets killed by the Trojans, and he goes back to battle. And he gets hit with an arrow on his heel and dies."

"Mum couldn't have been more thorough" Sirius says happily.

"Yeah. But he was a tragic poet. That's what makes it a tragedy, I guess, his downfall, and how it could have been avoided, but wasn't" he wonders aloud.

"Why did they even go and attack Troy to start with?" poses Sirius, hoping it's another long story. There's something in the air, or in Remus's long, slim fingers, or his indescribable voice, that's perfect tonight, nicer than when he was here alone, under the full moon. Next full moon, he will definitely lie here with Remus again.

"Paris, a Trojan, abducted the ruler of Sparta's beautiful wife, Helen, and so they went to get her back." And then he stops, like he's tired of speaking, but Sirius prefers this story to his own about the stars.

"They like to nick girls, don't they, the Greeks" jokes Sirius, trying to get him to laugh.

"It's all hazy." He says it philosophically, finding no joke in the chronicle. "There isn't just one story, in some of them Paris-" and he pauses, "well he, you know, against her will, and he takes her. And in some she fell in love with him and just ran off."

Sirius stays silent for a while, relaxing in the companionable air, feeling small beneath the vast nothingness above them, and wondering how they got onto analysis of the classical poets. Easily, really, seeing as he is talking to Remus. Remus makes anything and everything interesting, even an old story about an old bloke who dies in an old war. With Remus telling it, Sirius can really _see_ the two of them sailing under that liquid sky, in the Billiad, and all of it.

"The thing I like about the story really is Achilles. It's the epitomy of poetic tragedy. The gods even had to stop Achilles smashing up Troy too much, because he was _so_ violent and passionate, over the death of his friend, because Troy wasn't s'posed to have been destroyed yet, and it's like the rage of Achilles could have changed fate." He smiles and looks over at Sirius. "Just one mortal. And fate was very important for the Greeks. That's what Homer described to show his rage at the Trojans killing his best mate. Do you like it? I love the tragedies. They're so beautiful- poetic."

_The girl got taken and Achilles just sulked, but when Patroclus was killed, his rage was so intense. He fought the man who killed him and died himself._

"But it's sad" says Sirius, suddenly thinking of Remus's face when he was sick, and it all comes back to him. "Why do you like sad things? You always seem so sad. You're so – hard on yourself. All the time."

Sirius sees Remus's face and immediately regrets it.

"Oh" he says very quietly, and stares back up at the stars.

"I didn't mean that."

"I'm sorry to be such a downer on you, Sirius, really I am" snaps Remus suddenly, and makes to get up.

"Remus, sit back down!" Sirius starts to panic. Remus's thin, hopeful, hopeless face is wracked with tragedy. And then again, tears well up in his eyes, and his nose starts to turn red.

"Why? I'm obviously raining on your parade here."

Sirius's stomach wrenches to think Remus might think himself boring. Especially that _he himself_ might think Remus boring. He's so interesting- although he really shouldn't be, he's not all loud and shrieking and mental like James, but he so is- he just seems to sparkle without ever doing anything much that Sirius can really put his finger on.

"Remus! Please."

Remus turns back toward him, tears sliding down his face. Soft, sweet, delicate Remus. It's like he's so _unsteady_. "I don't know why you'd want to talk to _me_, Sirius." And suddenly Sirius sees himself and he's acting ridiculous and he's can't keep his mouth shut and he _physically can't stand it another second._

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" he screams at the immense nothingness, and Remus jumps out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. Sirius whips round on his knees, eyes blazing. "I can't stand that you won't tell me" he says, as he starts to cry. Remus looks at him, a feeble combination of heartbroken and alarmed.

"I can't stand you lying. I can't stand you carrying around this _weight_, I can't stand you not trust me, I- I can't stand it. I can't stand you being- so ill, that your temperature is soaring and you're crying in the night and the teachers, and the plans that you won't say and I can't stand that you lie there, and look at me like you're dying-" he sobs, crying properly now, and tries to regain himself. "I can't stand you looking like you're at death's door and you won't even let me stay to- to comfort you, to be near you, because it's like you're _scared_, that you might tell me whatever this is!" And he bursts into tears, flumping back down on the mountainside, weeping agony into his robes. He knows it's pathetic: he doesn't care. He's Sirius Black, careless and carefree, drama queen extraordinaire, and he's going to say what he thinks.

Anyway, he's said it now.

Sirius hears Remus sits down a little way from him and looks up, and Remus's legs are dangling over the little stone ledge, he's gripping fistfuls of the rock by his sides, staring straight out into space. Sirius stumbles over and Remus's tears are once again making those silver lines down his face. He looks like he's holding on for dear life.

It's after a very long time of sitting there together, Sirius sniffing loudly and trying to wipe away his tears, refusing to let himself speak before Remus does, else he never will, and Remus letting his nose and eyes drip, as he stares into the great expanse, and he's actually shaking, that Remus speaks. He looks up at the moon. He looks at Sirius and then quickly looks back at the stars.

"How did you know?" he croaks, very quietly, into the open night.

"I d'know anything. You never say it. Please, Remus. There isn't anything so bad as would make me angry-"

"But you do" he whispers, still refusing to look at him. "You just said it all. How did you know that? Why- I mean- do you think- did you think- I was hiding someth- ings."

"Because it's obvious" says Sirius in a small voice. He's still shaking with sobs, but suddenly the tightest belt in the world has been unbuckled and for all the emotion, he feels a hundred times better.

"From what" squeaks Remus, who knows the question is pointless.

"From- what? I don't know. You- in the bed and the fever? And the looking at me- so seriously and then, the horrible- and then so angry. Like just now. I didn't even say anything. You're so _fragile_. I can't bear it. That's what I meant. I didn't mean any of that stuff. You're not boring, you're not a downer raining on me, I- you're like, well James is my b- look, you don't understand. You- the going away, randomly, the teachers. Please tell me."

"How can you be sure there's one thing?" asked Remus softly, like a man defeated. "Could have just been a coincidence."

"Remus, every day I wake up and James and Peter are in their beds. And sometimes you're not. And you just appear, and change the subject. And sometimes you're fine- and you're so happy- and I'm _so_ happy- and you just switch on me, Remus. Why can't you just tell me? I won't tell Pete or James. I won't tell my mum."

Despite everything, Remus barks a short laugh. "Wasn't afraid of _that_" he says without thinking.

"So- see! You admit there's something!"

Remus can't find a reply to that, and it's answer enough.

"Even if it's complicated. I won't get bored and fidget like I always do and James tells me off but he does it too and look, I won't do it with you, I'll shut up, I swear I can. I won't ask questions till you're done. Is it because it's embarrassing? I've told you all about my family. Everything pathetic I've ever done, or felt, or been afraid of. I would _never_ hide a thing from you" he sobs."You even admit there's something, Remus." And he stops, because there's nothing else to say. He's just repeating himself.

Remus smiles sourly at the inky sky. "How did I get here?" he asks, in a murmur, but Sirius gets the feeling he probably shouldn't answer. "I was going to be _so careful._" He says it tenderly, like those two words are beautiful and precious to him. He gazes up at the stars, clutching them. And he's still spilling tears, but he's smiling a scary, reckless smile, as if nothing matters. "You know, this really is why I shouldn't have friends, be allowed to talk to anyone." He's speaking cryptically, in riddles now, and Sirius is sure is all has a meaning but for some reason he just can't think of it.

The night seems like it has gone on forever, yet is only just beginning.

"You're acting like you're a monster" says Sirius softly, and Remus barks out another false laugh, like he's mocking himself, and lies down. Sirius looks down at him. "But- you're not. You're Remus. There's no one I could imagine whose less a monster than you."

"Then, I've played my part well" murmurs he, and so Sirius feels the anger welling up again.

"Remus, I'm not being funny. You have to tell me. I'll do something crazy if you don't. I can't work you out. It itches so badly it hurts, in my belly," he gabbles, feeling like he is making no sense yet perfect sense both at once. "What the hell do you mean, you've played a part? It's _me, Sirius_. I don't pretend stuff when, when I'm with you. Why do you _always_ have to play a fucking part?"

"I don't know," says Remus, not responding to the provocation. "I thought- thought no one had any idea." He says it almost as if it's comical. "I'm so, so stupid. What if everyone knows? They all know? You already know-"

"I DON'T!" he roars. "IF I KNOW, THEN JUST SAY IT! YOU'VE NOTHING TO LOSE- I'm not fucking Herlock Sholmes like in one of your best friends the muggle books. Is this a joke to you? I've been awake at nights. I've fallen asleep in classes and dreamed about- you- secretly part of a cannibal cult, having a deadly disease, having killed someone and hid the body, having- an evil twin who died, harbouring this secret- this secret thing that's making you so unhappy! You're- making a game out of this, messing with me, do you know? Do you know, what I can't stand the most, I can't stand you not caring how much you're ripping up my insides."

Again, it's a long pause while they both sit and stare into the monstrous sky. Sirius slowly stops shaking and stares at his hands.

And then says Remus, in a low, and mournful voice: "Sirius, you have a friend who keeps disappearing and looks ill a lot and doesn't say where he's been. He's the only one that's not normal, doesn't change in front of the rest, reads books about people that never even existed like they're his friends, as if to block out the world. When he's sick and- and weak" and a tear dribbles down his face. "And then people take advantage, getting him to admit his- hopelessness. His best friends tell him he's always so sad. That's what you said to me, right. Is any of this news to you?"

Sirius shakes his head slowly.

"Remus, please. I'll beg. You're terrifying me now. For you to answer this one straight question and not lie like you always do. Please, Remus, I don't understand, I don't get it." Sirius has the feeling that something very very obvious is staring at him in the face but he can't see it. He tries to force the pieces in, but they won't go. He's dizzy, on the edge of finding out, but his stupid, stupid slow dumb brain won't fucking _work_.

Remus stays completely impassive, looking up at the stars, waiting for the blow. He doesn't deserve to defend himself by this point. Maybe Sirius will just leave. That will almost be worse than the beating he could well be about to endure. He imagines the scene, being run out of Hogwarts with pitchforks and flames. Or worse, the real scene, his traipsing down flanked between two long tables, a thousand pairs of eyes on him, the whispers, the sneers, the judgement. The silence. The sad eyes of his mother at her thirteen-year-old, reading alone every day, knowing Remus has failed, messed everything up, gotten complacent and cocky _and like Sirius_ that he just can't afford to be and ruined the one chance he'll ever have had to be halfway normal. Maybe he's so calm because he's just already given up.

Suddenly Sirius realises that he means that it's real life. It's the harsh world, and they're teenagers now, poised on the brink of something scary and shapeless. Life isn't full of winning. Running amok, laughing it out, playing pranks, messing around, hating one's mother. Knowing there's a Hogwarts-shaped safety net around you, handy cushion no matter how hard you ram yourself against the bars.

_Life's heartbreaking._

They are suddenly growing up. Everything's all of a sudden overwhelmingly terrifying, and they both cling to one another, frightened little boys, one of what he knows and one of what he doesn't, faced with too much, too soon, right now. Sirius's fingers creep into Remus's and he rests his forehead on them, waiting for Remus to say something, anything. He will not be the first to talk.

And then Remus sobs "I can't speak to you, Sirius," struggles up quickly, and before Sirius can physically stop him, is pattering up the steps and then thudding back over the hill to the castle.

Sirius lays there only fifteen minutes more because he's so cold from the tears soaking his face and collar and the angry, swirling, freezing sky and the absence of anyone around to protect him from the monsters that only creep out when he's alone, that he gives up and trudges back to the grey, looming castle, feeling as tragic as Remus looks.

He doesn't talk to James about what happened. James is so bubbly that it's easier, shamefully easy in fact, to forget the whole itchy thing and just be swept up with James's James-glee. He doesn't talk to Remus about it, because Remus is obviously trying so much harder now to pretend to be happy that Sirius thinks sometimes he really persuades himself he is and he isn't going to be the one to reduce Remus to sobbing and shaking and saying horrible, sinister, grown-up things again. Of course he doesn't talk to Peter, who in the past week has been so incredibly annoying in the way that Sirius never really noticed before. So he doesn't say anything and the problem is rubbed away at by everyday life so in three and a half weeks' time, it's just a small thing sitting patiently in the back of his stuffed head to be remembered about.

Then, it's always still there, eating away at him, making him jumpy and tearful.

Then, it all happens at once:

Then, in three and a half weeks they wake up and Remus isn't in his bed again but they don't really notice by now because he always turns up and then Peter's cousin who's a First Year has been taken to the Infirmary and then James and Sirius go with and then James gets bored and wanders off round the Infirmary and then through a door that's wedged shut but not very well that says No Entry on it because how on Merlin's green earth could he resist that and then white as a sheet he returns and punches Sirius six times on the arm hard enough to bruise and can't speak and then they follow him _and then they see Remus._

* * *

**So. ****I wrote this a million years ago and over those million years its been merged with things and edited and changed and has emerged as this, a kind of four part thing (of which this is the second and longest part) which ends up, obviously, with the Marauders accepting and understanding Remus. If you do want the other two parts that are sitting on my computer, you have to tell me.**

**Please do drop me a review; they make me _so _happy. :)**


	3. Three: Sirius, James, Peter

_"Behind every tree there's a new monster."_

- Todd Rundgren

**3.**

**There's this beautiful little thing, lying fast asleep in the bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts school.** The skin is taut against the ribcage like a little boy's, except he's at that age where he probably shouldn't have been so skinny, but is. You can see his ribs delicately poking out, and the pale, pale skin on his belly looks like it has never been free of the jumper that always covers it and the knuckles which are ground into it nervously by its owner, and his pale white skin's smudged with pink, like red paint wiped mostly off with Madame Pomfrey's brisk, gentle towel.

He isn't dreaming, thinks Sirius, because he's completely motionless and isn't fluttering his eyelashes – but he looked like he might have been disturbed, one fist balled up, the other digging into the sheets. His brow is unclenched for once though, and the long wispy bits of hair in his face that he hides behind swept aside by a brisk, pudgy hand, and his nose isn't wrinkled in laugher or embarrassment or deep thought like it normally is, and his mouth's not twisted into some coy shape designed to hide a wide grin or stop a sob from escaping. His face totally unveiled and relaxed, he looks a different Remus.

But of course, thinks he, looking upon this friend he knows so well on his horrible, guilty bed, he _is _a different Remus, a completely different one, and he feels blood pounding in his ears and desperately wants to turn and run, but somehow he remains there – not completely through loyalty, although he does feel that, and not through pity, which he only feels a little bit, and not through anger. He certainly does feel that, pounding and raging through his veins, seething rage aimed at every part of the world except the werewolf, half-naked and pale and thin and bruised and smeared with blood and perfectly undisturbed.

Sirius bites down hard on his thumbnail, at a loss for what to do next, wanting desperately to throw himself on Remus and punch him and hug him and- kiss him, and look after him always and scream and shriek and call everybody, and keep this a secret forever and ever.

Remus begins to wake up.

Ordinary (maybe slightly girly) eyelashes frame ordinary brown eyes that flutter open and he sees the grey-black blurry image of a boy, chewing anxiously on his thumb, staring at him from the bottom of the bed. Remus starts to spin, the world blurring nauseously out of his control, and he feels bile storming up his chest, and when their mournful eyes meet, Remus suddenly retches.

Sirius leaps up and Remus gags again, making this horrible horrible strangled sound, and Sirius instinctively grabs his friend, who's too shocked even to struggle, or do anything but throw up horribly into his own lap. His teeth seem to be grinding horribly and his blood is pounding and his lungs are squeezing he feels more scared than he can ever remember feeling. Sirius can't think. Remus chokes and gasps in panic, trying to suck in breath and making a horrible slurping sound.

Sirius threads a strong, thin arm around the his bare waist to support him. Remus isn't even all there enough to remember to sit, or rather, how to. Sirius holds back those little wispy, tawny curls while Remus chokes up saliva in vile threads, and then a disgusting horrible string of water, and then his stomach is completely empty and so unable to stop he dry heaves, making a strangled sob sound, hating everything, hanging in Sirius's arms.

Sirius is shaking quite visibly as he lays his friend against the thick pillows, and Remus is limp on the bed, gasping and trying to swallow, or spit out, managing neither, while someone quickly waves away the vom with his wand, Remus begins to cry, gripping tight to the bar on the bed with one hand with his knees clenched to his body and his eyes fixed on Sirius, sobbing and gasping and shaking. Sirius tries to touch his hand and he shrieks.

"Sirius, get off. He's having a panic attack" says Peter, who's actually uncannily calm despite the situation. Sirius had forgotten anyone else was there. Remus continues to cry, and hacks a horrible, croupy cough that grates against Sirius's chest. His eyes blur. It's not fair. It's worse than not fair. No. He's not _having this_. He quits. He gives up; _I surrender. Make it stop, I give up._

Yet Remus continues to cough in his panic and he dribbles out blood as Sirius grabs his hand, sobbing squeakily, and Remus shouts again, blind and red with tears, rocking in bed. James puts a gentle hand on Sirius's shoulder to stop him.

"Remus" says Peter, sternly, but Remus makes a noise of agony and continues to weep, burying his head in his knees now and shaking quite badly, his breathing loud and erratic.

"Remus, mate, c'mon" wheedles James frantically, finding his voice finally. He looks over his shoulder, frightened of being discovered. He's the one that now realises if the teachers know the Marauders know – well then Remus is gone.

"Remus!" yells Peter above him. Sirius looks at Peter with a bitter snarl, but it seems to be working – Remus jumps and drags his head up to where the voice was coming from, tears spilling down his cheeks. James appears behind Peter.

"We don't care. It's okay, Remus, c'mon mate, we don't care, don't need to cry" says James softly, and Remus sobs in agony, a long drawn out affair that's halted by Sirius struggling up onto the bed on his knees and wrapping both arms right around him again. Remus struggles but Sirius holds firm, and he settles back into him suddenly. Something tight clenching Sirius's insides dissolves, but at the same time tightens. He feels very dizzy.

"You- the" croaks Remus, throat full, indicating the sheet. Sirius rocks him, suddenly overtaken with perhaps the strongest protective feeling he will ever experience. It's so strong that he's hurting, and he's probably hurting Remus, but he's still not holding nearly tight enough.

"Stop crying" he says mournfully. They all look mournful, and Remus can't bear it.

"Please don't tell on me" he chokes out, shakily. "Please," he repeats, looking around at their sad faces beseechingly. "Don't tell, I'll do anything, I'll leave, go quietly, please, please I'll do, anyth-"

"Don't cry again" said James quickly, looking worried. "We aren't going to tell." So Remus sobs louder.

"Sorry" he weeps, stomach muscles clenching horribly, and completely out of energy. "'M'sorry m'sorry m-" He begins to cry gently again, and Sirius rocks him, and James fidgets, not knowing what to do, and finally landing on holding tight to Remus's fingers and Remus clings to his hand. Peter obviously isn't going to touch him, but he offers a kind smile that makes Remus feel so much worse. Sirius's arms are wrapped tightly around the werewolf, but he's numb and doesn't care.

No one says anything. They stand around the bed, all four Marauders together, and begin to share this terrible secret. And a million things swarm in Sirius's mind.

So he just speaks it.

"Did it hurt?" asks he, and Peter shoots him a look that he angrily ignores. Torrents seem to be roaring in James's ears.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" James bursts out.

"How much?" Sirius then suddenly mumbles, suddenly burning to know, the pit of his stomach souring painfully.

"Sirius!"

Remus opens his mouth into an O as if he's about to say something about the intensity of how much it hurt. "How did you get in?" says he quietly, instead.

"Remus, why the hell did you keep this a secret? Sneaking off- and- we wouldn't have cared!"

"Stop shouting at him!" roars Sirius, and James makes a motion as if to pounce him but stops.

"I'm not" he says, sucking in two lungfuls of air. "Why didn't you- trust me? Us? The Marauders?"

Remus is quiet for a long time; he tries to think of the honest answer to that. He has no real reason. It had been the main condition of his coming to Hogwarts, of course, but that sounds awful: how could he ever justify it? It kept (well, tried to keep) everything simpler. He can't think of the right answer to the question so he guesses.

"What if you'd have hated me?" whispers he.

"What?" chipped in Peter, suddenly astonished.

"How was I s'posed to know how you'd all react to me hiding this- for so- so long? Keeping this a secret was the condition on which I came here." The werewolf mumbles his words, painfully aware of his appearance. "Please don't tell. I'll go quietly. Don't- make a scene- in front of everyone-" and he starts to cry.

"Why are you going?" yells Sirius louder than intended.

"Will you all stop shouting?" hisses Peter. "You'll wake someone."

"Sirius, werewolves can't go to school, they're a danger. Well- I mean the schools think they are and- the other parents wouldn't allow it-"

"He's not a _danger_!" bellows Sirius, outraged and looking at James with treason in his eyes, and still holding tight to Remus, as if he might disintegrate in his arms.

"Well-" hisses James tensely, daring to glance at Remus's eyes and then looking at his own feet. His cheeks flush angrily.

"Will you stop talking about me like I'm not here" whispers Remus. "He's right. I'm a danger. It was selfish to- to endanger you all by being here. It doesn't even matter. People know, I'll leave." And tears slide down his face noiselessly. He's just too exhausted, too cried out, that everything seems very calm and clear. In a hollow way he's almost relieved. No more sneaking around, trying to kid even himself that he's perfectly normal.

"But- it's just _us._" James says, breaking the silence quietly but resolutely, like something has been made up in his mind.

"You just changed your tack pretty quickly" says Peter, suddenly cautious.

"_You_ for one can shut up criticising and start figuring out what to do!" cries Sirius.

"Sirius, you have to calm down" mutters Remus. "Someone's going to hear." He gives a weak sob and sprawls limp in Sirius's arms. Sirius glares miserably at Peter, but Peter doesn't react.

"_Everyone_ shut up!" James pipes up, finally realising it's him that must take charge and a deep breath. Sirius is hysterical, Remus is broken, and Peter is useless. James clears his throat and summons his strength in the way only a twelve year old leader does. "I know what we do," he reiterates. "This, stays between us. Never leaves the room. No one has to know we know. No teachers. Nothing changes."

"Why would you do that?" mumbles Remus. "You wouldn't be able to, anyway."

"Because I want you here. We want you here" says James softly, and squeezes his hand, and offers an encouraging and brotherly smile, and Remus starts again to cry, and he buries his head in Sirius's chest.

"_I_ want you here" agrees Sirius, rocking him. He wants to say more, let Remus see how he knows how overwhelming this is, let him know he's always there, let him know- anything under the sun, except James and Peter are here and so Sirius buttons it. "I want you here" he says again helplessly.

"I want you here" catches on Peter, handing Remus a glass of water that's been sitting on the side. Remus shakes Sirius off for a moment to take a gulp. Stale water floods his dry mouth and he swallows gratefully.

"I couldn't keep being- from you for two years" he reasons bitterly. "How could all of you?"

"We won't _do _anything except pretend not to know," realises Peter. "It'll be easy. We'll just carry on as normal."

"But-" and he's out of problems, so he merely sobs some more, severely dampening Sirius's robes and James's hand, but he's relaxed slightly in Sirius's arms, obviously worn out, and so unable to fight.

Sirius's arms are so warm, and comforting, almost accepting. He'd be happy to stay here forever, nuzzling into Sirius's robes exactly like his own, but that cover a different human being, _Sirius_. He's grown so unused to human comfort after a moon, and he suddenly cuddles fiercely into it, overcome with how so, so nice it is. He's grown accustomed to the brisk, morose distance of Pomfrey, her pity, her thick, slimy ointments, loneliness and shame and aching bones and itchy tender skin and morose, silent miserable footsteps through the halls, feeling clicking in his joints as his body settles its bones again, ache and pain and silence. A warm desperate feeling spreads through his bones, like they've been turned into soup, as he nestles into these arms, into Sirius's responsive form, into his living breathing laughing human body. He nestles into Sirius and is suddenly safe.

James holds onto both Sirius's and Remus's hands. Peter, the least affectionate of the Marauders (except for maybe Remus while he is trying to work), still keeps a slight distance, but it's still intimate for a few long moments, the four of them children in this eye of this storm, suddenly bound very much together in some intangible way that's like suddenly each Marauder owing the others. Together they share a secret, and this means in some small way they are all now indebted to each other, responsible for each other.

"Remus, we can sort this all out later. You need to sleep- you've been awake all night" James softly realises. Remus is exhausted and his eyelids are drooping and his fingers, which were fiercely clutching at the folds of Sirius's robes, are now limp.

"But- no. We-"

"Are never going to tell anyone" swears Sirius, looking wide eyed at him. "I promise."

"Me too" says Peter.

"And me" says James.

Remus cries a little more, clinging to Sirius like he's drowning.

* * *

**So, there was the main thing. And as much as I'm fond of the whole story of Achilles thing (might just be me) and all of that, there was the getting down to it. The last part, if you want it, is pretty short, although I'll revise and edit it before it goes up.**

**Leaving a review only takes a minute; if you think this was anything, please tell me so. :) Thanks again for reading and all that jazz.**


	4. Four: The Marauders

_"I think we all have to fight the werewolf in us."_

- William Kempe

**4.**

The conversation a day later in the dorm room is long and painful. They speak about everything, right from the beginning, until they all understand. Remus talks a lot, looking none of them in the eye. James's voice more than once rises to a crescendo, he and Sirius both cry again, and Peter looks horrified when Remus very reluctantly shows him the original scar on his back, yanking his shirt up to expose some ghostly, twisted skin. The scar, warped and ugly because his body was so much smaller when he was bitten, stares back at all of them. Sirius wants to touch it and James immediately does, very lightly with his one finger, but Remus flinches as if he's been slapped and he's trembling. Sirius quickly, awkwardly, tugs his shirt back over the ugly mar.

Remus says everything. It's terrifying and a huge relief. They don't think any less of Remus. They think more, or maybe the same, or maybe it is less of what they thought before and more what they think now, they explain. Remus looks sad. Peter feels stupid and James feels sick.

They talk about fear, and the future, and pain, a lot about pain. Remus has to explain. Sirius and Peter encourage it, feeling like it's theraputic to share the burden but James sits there with his lips pressed tightly together and thinking he's only torturing himself reliving it. Remus and James give the facts about werewolves. Sirius brings the drama and hysteria. Peter is the first to worry about Remus's discovery to the world outside of their dorm, while James is the first to voice his fear of Remus's illnesses coming back to him. What'd he do without Remus? What'd any of them? Sirius cries again.

Remus begs them not to feel sorry for them and Peter clutches Remus's arm and tells him that they don't and Sirius tells him they do and it's not fair. Sirius shuts up for a while and drifts off. Remus is so kind. He's so clever. He'd never hurt a fly. Not like him and James, who hexed Snivellus's underwear to glow yesterday.

Brilliant, beautiful, tragic Remus. He's the best person they've all ever met. It's not fair this would happen to him. Life isn't fair.

James says Remus isn't a different person and nothing changes. Peter says Remus isn't a different person and everything changes. Sirius runs with the idea and swears they will find a way to help him. They will _fix this together_. James remembers reading about werewolves and suddenly looks heartbroken, and slams his arms around Remus tight. Remus nestles close, feeling weakly undeserving of this friend.

Remus doesn't remand Sirius for his drama like he normally does. Be specific Sirius, come on, buck up, be sensible now, so silly and emotional, making a big passionate scene out of everything. Remus doesn't criticise him. It's like he's still silently waiting for them all to realise and be horrified. Sirius says that he wanted to know what was going on so he could fix it and make him happy and now he can't think of a thing to do. Remus smiles his sad smile, but it's a little different, like a little genuine happiness is nestling in amongst his sadness, rather than plastered fakely over it.

Sirius takes to affectionately calling him Wolfy, which makes Remus feel very slightly a part of their new plan that_ being a werewolf is a grand adventure_, which in turn makes him feel happily nauseous, or maybe nauseously happy. Peter once nicknames him Moon-boy, which makes him feel sickly patronised but he doesn't know quite why. James, he thinks, seems to think so too, because he makes a weird face and quickly changes it to Moony.

By the end of the week, all three are calling him Moony. Remus lays back in his bed each night feeling panicky yet calm, dizzy yet grounded, very light headed, and he hears Sirius whisper "Night, Moony" and can't help but smile. Much as he often wonders what he did to deserve this, he now wonders what he did to deserve _this_, as well. He's been here less than two years and he's already messed up the precarious arrangement on which he was even allowed to be here, at this, the best place he's ever been.

He sleeps much better, now.

_"Confront them with annihilation and they will then survive. Plunge them into a deadly situation and they will then live:_

_When people fall into danger, they are then able to strive for victory."_

- Sun Tzu

* * *

_**Finis.**_

**Thank you for reading and to my beautiful reviewers.**

**Next, I'll be uploading some little Sirius/Remus fragment-things hanging around on my hard drive, and I think, another chaptered lycanthropy-centered Sirius/Remus story I have where they're a bit older (not a sequel or anything). ****Another one I'm thinking of posting is Year the Seventh, which is a few Sirius/Remus things that happened in seventh year but I don't think its all quite finished.**

**To come very soon. :)**


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